


Anything

by ladydeathfaerie



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Absolutely not canon compliant, Altenate Universe, Implied Relationship, Language, Mentions of Violence, Multi, Temporary Character Death, casting spells always comes with a cost, the forest is alive with a metric fuckton of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-01 06:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2762882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydeathfaerie/pseuds/ladydeathfaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For years, S.H.I.E.L.D. has protected the general population from the threat of dark magic and its users. Members of S.H.I.E.L.D. have always been willing to pay the price to keep the world safe from that darkness, whatever that price may be. But when the dark starts to eat away at more and more of the world, Nick Fury and Phil Coulson find that they will do anything to tip the balance in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s favor. Anything at all. Even bring back one of their own.</p>
<p>No matter what the price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [totalnerdatheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalnerdatheart/gifts).



> written as part of the Lump of Coul fanworks exchange for [totalnerdatheart](http://archiveofourown.org/users/totalnerdatheart/). i can't even say where the idea for this came from. but once the bunny bit, i found i had to write it. i really, really hope you like it, hon! 
> 
> please take note of the warnings applied to this fic. i've used the graphic violence warning for a reason. there is a bit toward the end that explains how Nick lost his eye in this universe and, while i didn't write what i'd consider a graphic scene, my ideas of graphic do not necessarily mesh with anyone else's. if you find you don't like even a mention of graphic violence, it would be best if you skip that part or even the whole story.

The ground beneath their feet was uneven, littered with fallen leaves, dead twigs and sticks, and small patches of snow here and there. Thin slivers of moonlight filtered through the bare tree branches that reached up to the sky above their heads, casting brightly dappled shadows across the path. A satchel bumped rhythmically against his hip with each step, the weight of its contents a blatant reminder of their purpose there tonight. As if the heavy weight of the coffin he was helping carry didn't do that well enough on its own. 

They were still quite a distance from their destination and he knew that the burden of the gleaming, pale blue casket would only get worse as they neared the clearing. It would have been nice if they could have transported the coffin with one of those wheeled things that mortuaries used. But it wouldn't have made it into the woods. A levitation spell would have been nice. It would have made it easier to guide their heavy burden through the forest. Too bad this wasn't fucking Harry Potter. He bit back a sigh, then bit back a curse when his foot found a rut and he was almost pitched to the side. Pushing thoughts of discomfort from his mind, he focused on the path beneath him. And the task that lay before him. 

Technically, it was a task for at least two. Which was why he was not alone on this venture into the deep woods. Even more technically, they weren't supposed to be doing this. First, it was very much against the law. Second, it was very much against the deceased's wishes. But circumstances being what they were, there really was no choice. 

Spellcrafting, Hexes, Invocation, Exorcism, and Lithomancy Division, or S.H.I.E.L.D. for short, was an organization dedicated to dealing with the magical and mystical things that happened in the world, those things that the more mundane members of the population were ill-equipped to deal with. And once, the company had been strong, more than capable of dealing with the magical mischief and malevolent events that plagued mankind. But that ability had been in a downward spiral for several years now, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base of power steadily crumbling away with a lack of strong, solid leadership.

That thought saw his gaze shifting, briefly, to Nick's leather-clad back. To his credit, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s director had been doing his very best to keep the company from completely falling apart. But he was only one man and he could only do so much. And without their third to help hold their magic together, to focus it and make it as strong as it could be, Nick's best wasn't quite enough. 

He was jerked from his thoughts when Nick turned to look at him over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth visible pulled down in a tight frown. "I need you to get your head on right, Phil." It was a reminder that Phil had to be on his toes for what was to come. It might have seemed like Nick turned at just the right moment, but he was one of the strongest magic users Phil knew. He'd felt Phil's gaze on his back.

"You're sure we should be doing this?" Phil asked, even though he knew Nick would never change his mind. To be honest, Phil was pretty sure that Nick had the right of it. But he wanted to know if the other man had any doubts about his plans. 

"We've been over this, Phil. We don't have any choice. The world is going to hell and we need all the help we can get."

"She won't like it," Phil shot back. Nick gave him a look that said he already knew that. Knew it and didn't care. Phil fell silent and thought back to the last time they'd talked to her. It had been on last All Hallow's Eve, when the veil had been thinnest. The moment the spell had taken place, her glowing, watery form had shimmered into existence and shot them both such a look of disdain that it felt like she was alive and standing before them. 

_"Don't come visit me again. It isn't healthy for you. Either of you." Her voice was as ghostly as she was, hollow and echoing in the still silence of the cemetery. Phil was on the verge of agreeing with her. Just so that she would stop looking at them the way she did when they disturbed her rest. But Nick stood his ground. Just as Phil had known he would._

_"We'll come see you every Samhain until we die, if that's what it takes. But it won't. I found it, Mel. I found the answer." Nick's voice was strong and firm. Anyone who didn't know him wouldn't hear the faint hint of desperation that tinged his words. Wouldn't catch the even smaller glimmer of hope that bubbled up behind it._

_The look she gave him was both blank and stern, all at the same time. It was something she excelled at. She drifted closer to where Nick stood, her passing form ruffling the flames on the candles that they'd used to cast the summoning spell. She stopped within an inch of Nick and put her ghostly hands on her equally ghostly hips._

_"I told you no." There was nothing but steel in her words. Nothing soft and yielding. Phil sighed, drawing her ire his way. "I trust you to convince him that his plan was madness."_

_Phil shrugged helplessly. "You know how he is when he gets an idea. Besides, he's right. We found it. We finally managed to track down the grimoire."_

_That seemed to startled her, her face flickering for just a moment. Then her hard ass stare reasserted itself and she frowned at them both. "No. You are not going to cast some crazy spell that hasn't been cast in centuries. No one knows if the spell will work. No one knows what kind of toll casting it carries. I won't let you two be guinea pigs to an ancient, possibly dangerous spell just for my sake."_

_"We don't have a choice, Mel. The world is crumbling. S.H.I.E.L.D. is falling apart. It isn't strong enough to stop the influx of dark magic. We'll fall if we don't reinforce our base. We need you." Nick's voice was flat and empty. She blinked at him._

_"Its that bad?"_

_"With you gone the past seven years, Melinda, we've been steadily losing our ability to control the magic. We're not as strong without you. And our instability is affecting the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. The triads aren't working the way they used to. We need you." Phil was as blunt as Nick had been. Melinda needed to understand just what was at stake. That he and Nick were willing to risk whatever it took to bring her back. Having her back on the mortal plane could tip the balance of magic in their favor. Nick was willing to take whatever chances were necessary. So was Phil._

_She considered that news for a few moments, her lips pursed as she floated over the ground. Fog was rolling in, coiling around Phil and Nick's corporeal feet. It actively avoided the spot where Melinda's ghostly form floated, twisting around the edges of her aura as if it was confused about its inability to go straight through. "I... No. I don't want you risking yourselves for me. Find another way. Leave me to rest. I'm tired. I've earned it. Don't come back and disturb me again."_

_The words had barely fallen into the air before Melinda's form was gone. The candles blew out as the magic of the spell was released, leaving Nick and Phil staring at each other in dismay and determination._

That had been just a few months ago. It was the solstice now, and the tome Nick had found said that this spell was best performed on the longest night of the year. Thus they were on their way into the deep woods with a coffin they'd 'borrowed' from the cemetery and two satchels full of the needed supplies to accomplish this summoning. 

They hadn't lied to Melinda. The dark forces were gaining ground against the magic users at S.H.I.E.L.D. and nothing they did stopped the advance. Once upon a time, the company had been strong enough to hold them off. Back when it had first been created. That had been right after the second great war, when it had become obvious that there needed to be group that protected the world from magic just like there needed to be a group that protected the mundane from the dangers of mankind. And so Howard Stark had created S.H.I.E.L.D., and he'd brought many of the best magic users in the world into his new organization. Many of the heroes from the war were the first to take up the mantel of magical protection. 

It had taken a couple of years for the higher ups to realize that creating teams of three magic users made the magic stronger and more effective. And so S.H.I.E.L.D. had organized their ranks into triads. For many years, those triads had held the users of dark magic at bay. The mundanes had been safe from things they weren't even aware existed. 

But the triads were losing their ability to hold the dark back. It had taken a little while for them to realize that it was because they'd lost Melinda. It was always a risk, of course, but the last mission she'd been on was supposed to have been run of the mill. The intel they'd had on it had been bad. Very bad. And it had cost Melinda her life. It had cost S.H.I.E.L.D. a part of its soul. 

Phil and Nick were determined to get that bit of soul back. 

The moon was high in the sky when they reached their destination. The clearing they entered into was a natural circle amidst the trees and it was filled with magic. Legend said it had been used as a kind of temple for centuries, that people had come to this very spot to cast those spells that were big and powerful and, on some occasions, darker than normal. 

There was a stone slab in the center of the clearing, its surface worn smooth over the years. Phil and Nick maneuvered the casket onto the slab. The satchels they carried over their shoulders, filled with the tools of their trade, were settled against the base of the slab and, together, they removed the supplies necessary for the casting of the spell. Years of being part of a triad had given them the ability to move in unison. Their motions were silent and perfect. Exact. It had been commented on once or twice before and when Melinda had been alive, her movements had been mirror images of theirs. 

Once the satchels were emptied, they fell into old habits that helped set Phil's nerves at ease. Nick placed the candles and bundles of herbs along the edge of the slab while Phil walked the perimeter of the clearing and began casting the circle. Nick always left protection circles to Phil because Phil had a natural aptitude for them. Nick was better at heavier magic. The kind of magic that could throw people off their feet at a hundred paces with barely a look in their direction. Phil was just finishing up the circle when Nick started to light the candles. 

He watched for a moment as Nick worked, hands steady and sure as they worked through their task. No more than five seconds passed before Phil picked up a mixture of salt and herbs, took them over to the edge of the circle, and began walking the same path as before. This time, he sprinkled the salt and herb mixture on the ground as he chanted. Each sprinkle saw the circle's invisible walls strengthen. By the time Phil was done, the walls were strong and thick. The air within the circle already crackled with magic and there was no way he could miss the expectation that hung heavy around him. 

Phil returned to Nick's side. The man was busy looking over the heavy tome that would help them bring Melinda back. It was plain to see that the grimoire was older than written memory and Phil didn't have to touch the pages or the binding to know that the thing was made of some kind of tanned hide. Magic leaked off the book like cold air leaked off a window in the winter. Phil had to fight against the shiver that wanted to climb his back.

The two of them shared a look that conveyed everything they'd never say aloud to one another. Phil had learned a long time ago that Nick found things like friendship and trust to be some of the most valuable traits one could find in his fellow man. Phil had also learned that Nick didn't give those things easily or freely. Phil was one of the very few who had earned both. Which was why he was standing in the circle with Nick and not someone else. Nick nodded at Phil to signal he was ready to start the spell. Phil nodded in return and took his place at the foot of Melinda's coffin. 

Magic washed over him like cool mountain spring water the very instant he started chanting the incantation that would summon Melinda to them. Nick stood at the head of the coffin, book heavy in his hands as he read the incantation written on the pages before him. Even across the distance, the words sounded oily and wrong. Phil wanted to recoil from the spell, wanted to stop and bury that book and never see it again. But he couldn't. Bad things happened when spells were started and never finished.

A faint wind rose as two sets of words filled the interior of circle. It tugged at the legs of Phil's jeans and the lower edge of his winter coat. It tugged at the tassels hanging off his scarf and blew them askew. The power of their combined magic eddied through the wind, thin currents of power that had their own distinct tastes and feels. 

Nick's magic always tasted of leather, like the coat he wore and the books he owned, as if leather had seeped into his pores. There was also a hint of coffee at the back. His magic was warm, as if he basked in the sun or sat before a roaring fire. Phil's magic was cooler and felt like water when it coiled around him. Nick had once told him it reminded him of the stones found in the beds of ancient rivers, polished smooth and rounded but hard and strong. Precise. Melinda's magic had been earthy and fresh, like fresh green grass and soil that had just been turned over. Things felt off without her strong, solid magic there to act as a buffer between them.

The volume of their voices rose ever so slightly. At the same time, the magic around them intensified and thickened within the confines of the circle. Tendrils of power began coiling around their legs and creeping up their bodies. The ground beneath their feet trembled. 

A faint swirl of light began to shimmer and coalesce directly over the coffin, forming slowly into Melinda's form. Her ghostly eyes were locked on Phil and a frown compressed her lips into a thin line. She was going to tear him a new one. He could see it all over her face. But Nick's voice rose over Phil's just then and Melinda's ghost whirled to stare at him. "Nick! What are you doing?" 

There was barely any time for Melinda's voice to echo in the clearing because a dark shape formed within the circle. Phil couldn't see anything beyond a black, smoky shape, but he knew without seeing the front that it was a soul guardian. Soul guardians, charged with protecting the souls in their possession, had no discernable shapes. They weren't inherently good or evil, but they were unwilling to part with their souls and they were wicked powerful. Phil began chanting his spell louder, with more of his magic poured into his words. His job was to make sure that Melinda's soul stayed on their plane while Nick continued the spell that would put her back in her body. 

"The woman belongs to me, human," the soul guardian intoned. Its voice was like nothing Phil had ever heard before, low and deep and rumbling. Like the sound of giant boulders tumbling down a mountainside. 

"I'm calling her back," Nick said calmly before starting his chant again. The soul guardian looked from Nick to Melinda's spirit. Then it twisted around so it could look at Phil. It had glowing embers for eyes that stared at him without blinking. Phil didn't flinch away from the look, nor did he stop working his own spell.

"You know there is a price to pay for using this magic, yes?" There was a slightly sibilant quality to the soul guardian's words that, combined with the unblinking eyes, reminded Phil of a snake. Phil's gaze slid to where Nick stood, book held in his hands and mouth moving through each word of the spell with a great deal of care. Nick said nothing, simply nodded and kept reading off the open pages before him. "You are willing to pay the price?" 

Again, Nick nodded. Phil was starting to get a bad feeling about all of this. Of course he knew that there was a price for all magic. There could be no give without take. A smaller spell exacted a smaller price. Something like a headache. Or exhaustion. But the weight that the soul guardian had put on the word 'price' suggested to Phil that whatever Nick was to pay, it would be so much more than a simple headache. 

The soul guardian stared at Nick for several long moments. Phil could feel the weight the gaze it rested on Nick, even with the soul guardian's back turned to him. The wind stopped moving around the circle even as the magic grew. "You will pay whatever price I name?" it asked. The tone it used and the way it asked that question left Phil with chills. He hadn't asked Nick what kind of offering a spell of this magnitude would require. He really, really should have.

"Yes." Nick answered without hesitation. Phil didn't like that. Not one bit.

"No! I don't want you to do this, Nick!" Melinda said. Her voice sounded distant and hollow over the roar of magic in Phil's ears. It kept building and it felt like it was going to take him apart if it didn't go somewhere soon. 

Nick said nothing in reply. There was nothing to say. As far as Melinda was concerned, nothing would ever justify their actions here tonight. The two of them were prepared to live with that. They were fairly sure that she'd forgive them. Eventually. After she had time to be pissed. And when she saw just how much was at stake. For now, though, just having her back was enough. It had to be. 

The soul guardian was silent for a short span of time, then it nodded its head and moved forward. Phil saw one of its arms come up, saw oily black claws slide out of the smoky, wispy things that had to be its fingers. Time froze, magic beating against Phil's skin, as the soul guardian moved so fast that it blurred. One second, it was standing at an equal distance between Phil and Nick. The next, it was standing before the other man and its arm was moving forward. There was a wet, tearing sound. Nick made a noise that Phil was sure was a stifled scream, then the book tumbled from his hands and he crumpled to the ground. 

The soul guardian turned to look at Phil, obsidian claws red and dripping with Nick's blood. A single brown eye sat in the palm of its hand. Wispy fingers closed over the eyeball and it disappeared into the blackness. The soul guardian looked at Phil, glittering obsidian teeth showing as it opened its mouth to speak. "The price has been paid. The soul is yours." 

Everything happened at once. As soon as the soul guardian finished speaking, it disappeared in a puff of oily black smoke that smelled faintly of brimstone. Melinda's spirit shimmered a moment, then it, too, was gone. The magic inside the circle reached overload, blowing the invisible walls out with a great whoosh of air. And the wood of the coffin exploded, sending splinters flying in every direction like tiny missiles. Phil ducked to avoid being struck, hitting the ground hard enough to knock the wind from him. He decided to stay there a bit because the world had just blown up around him and he deserved five minutes or so to collect himself. 

He didn't realize he'd lost his hearing until Melinda was in his face, lips moving almost frantically as she spoke to him. But sound came back in increments. It didn't take long until he could hear the wind rustling through the bare branches and the concern in Melinda's voice. When he didn't answer her right away, she put her hands on his face and forced him to look at her. "Phil! Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, Mel. Just a little dazed." His word was apparently not enough, because she took a moment to look him over. When her eyes returned to his, he could see the disapproval in them. He cut her off before she could get started. "I know this isn't what you wanted, Melinda. But we need you here. This wasn't don't without purpose." 

"What the hell were you and Nick thinking? Don't you realize that the soul guardian could have asked for one or both of your souls in return? This was dangerous and foolhardy and I should never speak to either one of you again. But I missed your stupid jokes and Nick's gruff... " Her voice trailed off and her eyes went wide. "Nick!" 

She helped Phil to his feet and, together, they crossed the clearing to the spot where Nick's body lay sprawled on the ground. Phil could tell that Melinda was as afraid of what they'd find as he was based on her hesitant movements. She shared a look with Phil before the two of them knelt beside Nick. 

The other man's pulse was strong, despite the amount of magic he'd used and the trauma he'd been through. Surprisingly, there was very little blood against his skin. His eyes were still closed, so it was hard to tell how much internal damage there might have been, but the skin around Nick's left eye bore deep gouges that already looked as if they'd scabbed over. 

Melinda passed a hand over Nick's face, her palm only a scant few millimeters away from his skin, and she whispered under her breath. Phil felt her magic come, uncoiling like a long slumbering flower that was meeting the sun for the first time in ages. A faint glow of gold emanated from her hand. It burnished Nick's skin for a heartbeat or two, then it was gone. She looked up at Phil with relief bright in her gaze. "I think he's okay. I'm not a healer, though, so I can't say for sure. We should get him to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s healers and see what they have to say." 

"You'd think being dead would do something about your bossy nature," Nick grumbled, voice low. Melinda couldn't help the tiny laugh she gave, then she and Phil were helping Nick sit up. With his eyes open, they could see just how expensive the price for Melinda's life had been. Phil got up and went to his satchel, dug in it for a few moments, then came back with a length of bandaging. Nick gave him a dirty look.

"Just until we can get you something else. Unless you want to scare small children on the street." 

Nick shot Phil a frown, but he allowed Melinda to wind the bandaging around his head to cover his injury. Together, the two of them got him to his feet. Neither one let on how relieved they were when he managed to move on his own. "Melinda. Its good to see you back in your skin. You've never looked better." 

"Compliments will not soften my anger toward you," she retorted. But a smile tugged the corners of her mouth up and she leaned in to press a quick, rare kiss to Nick's cheek. "But that doesn't mean you should stop." 

"I'll keep that in mind," Nick said as he looked around the clearing. The explosion of magic had flattened all of the grass in the area. And there was no sign of Melinda's coffin. Every last bit of it had been sent flying. The candles had been blown out and toppled, but hadn't been damaged. Some of the trees bore testament to their presence there that night, tiny scars in their bark where slivers had pierced them. The most damning mark of the night's activities was a black patch in the grass where the soul guardian had stood. Maybe someday that patch would be green again. Maybe. 

Nick bent and picked up the grimoire, smoothing out pages with reverence. When he closed the book, he let his gaze swing around to look at each of them in turn. Then he started gathering up the supplies he'd brought with. Phil went to his satchel one more time and brought out a roll of clothing for Melinda. She took it with a smile, then stepped into the shadows. By the time Nick and Phil had finished gathering up everything and packed it all away into their satchels, Melinda was back in a fresh change of clothes. She stared at the two of them. "Now what?" 

"Now? Now we go home. And we welcome you back properly," Nick said, knowing smile on his face. Melinda shot him a dirty look, her gaze moving to the bandages. Nick heaved a sigh. "After we visit the healers."

"Better," Melinda returned. "But I'm still mad at you." 

"I can live with that. Phil?" Nick directed his attention toward Phil. Phil shrugged a shoulder. 

"Better you're alive and mad at us than dead and gone," Phil said softly. He sent a crooked smile her way. "Its good to have you back, Melinda." 

She didn't stop the smile that came at that. And she didn't stop herself from delivering a hug to both of them. When she was done, she let her gaze slide around the clearing so that she could take in every last inch of it. Then she looked at them. "Its good to be back. Now let's go home. I'm starving. Can we stop and get some pizza from Frankie's?" 

Nick nodded and slung his arm around her shoulder. "Anything for you, Mel. Anything." Phil moved up and took his place on her other side. As one, the three of them started the long trek back through the woods. 

Phil glanced at the two of them and smiled as Melinda's magic twined with theirs. For just that moment, everything in the world felt right again. There'd be hell to pay come the dawn. Melinda had been dead for seven years, ever since things in Bahrain had gone so horribly wrong. They'd have to deal with that. And any other price their use of magic that night might demand. But for now... 

For now, the three of them could take on the world and they could do anything. As long as they were together.

**Author's Note:**

> i would also like to offer my eternal thanks to [Dazzledfirestar](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzledfirestar/pseuds/Dazzledfirestar) for her constant support and help. she helps keep me sane so that i can put this stuff down. i wouldn't get half as much stuff done without you, hon. you're the best and i love you!


End file.
